Influenced by Eva Robinson (love story books to read .TXT) 📕

I left the room. I thought if I drove her around she’d fall asleep.”

“That doesn’t work anymore, Luke.”

“Well, it’s good I have a backup plan, isn’t it? I’ll bring her to you. How’s it going there?”

“Good. It turns out they raised enough money to start the building. We did, I guess. It’s amazing, isn’t it?”

“That is fantastic, Annie. You’re amazing, you know that?”

Her cheeks warmed. “Okay. I’ll send you the address. But don’t look at it until you stop driving. Wait, are you driving while you’re on the phone?”

“I’m near Fresh Pond,” he said, ignoring her question. “Look, I don’t want to intrude, so maybe you could just run out to the car? Give Nora a cuddle?”

“Of course.”

When she hung up, she saw that Daniel was looking at her, his brow furrowed. “Everything okay?” He nodded at her punch glass on the grass. She hadn’t even realized she’d dropped it.

She reached down to pick it up, brushing the dirt off, then wondered where to put it. “Oh, it’s nothing. Just that Nora sometimes needs to see me before she falls asleep.”

“That is very adorable.”

“She doesn’t let me sleep, but she is the cutest child in the world. In my opinion.”

In the front yard, the soft grass felt amazing against Hannah’s bare feet. She crossed her arms as Luke’s car pulled up in front of the house. Not that long ago, everything had seemed so hopeless, and now everything had changed so fast. So fast…

Time seemed to zoom along these days, rushing like the wind over the Atlantic. And right now, she was wondering how strong that punch was, because she felt faintly euphoric and dreamy.

As soon as she opened the back door, Nora yelled, “Mama!” Then, “I love you.”

Hannah leaned in and wrapped her arms around her daughter. “You need to go to sleep for Dada. Okay? He’ll tell you a story, and you need to go to sleep.” But she didn’t want to let Nora go.

“Sleep soon.” Nora touched her face. “Mama cheek.”

Hannah had an overwhelming urge to pull Nora out and take her back to the party, but knew it was a terrible idea. She’d be a wreck tomorrow, and she’d probably try to wander into the pond anyway.

“I’m going to give you a bottle of my homemade wine tomorrow,” said Luke. “It’s ready.”

“That sounds exciting.”

“Good. I was hoping to impress you.” He held her gaze for so long that she could feel its intensity washing over her like the sun.

Was her new, glowing life making him interested in her again? Was he flirting with her? “Impress me?”

He still held her gaze, like he was trying to search her soul. “I always like to impress you.”

“Well, you always impress me.” And now she was flirting back. She’d better put a stop to that.

Then he asked, “Is everything okay at the party?”

He seemed to be finding ways to prolong the moment—or maybe he was starting to get jealous, too, sensing that she was moving on.

“Everyone’s fine,” she said. “I’ll talk to you in the morning. Have a good night. Good luck. And call me if anything goes wrong, or if she needs me to say goodnight again.”

“Of course.”

She gave Nora one last kiss, then closed the door and stepped away from the car.

As she watched them drive away, she stared at them, then at the darkness. Her mind seemed to go blank…

The car was gone now, and she wasn’t sure how long she’d been standing there, gaping at the dark street.

When she turned, her heart sped up. Someone moved in the shadows behind her—someone who had been watching her stare off into space. Maybe even watching her talk to Luke.

But whoever it was slid off into the darkness, and a shiver danced up Hannah’s nape.

Twenty-Eight

Rowan swayed in the breeze, staring out at the glittering pond in the distance. How much did she have to drink? Punch, then wine. Even the coke wasn’t helping her feel sober tonight.

But maybe tonight had been a night of pure abandon. A night for Dionysus. Because she had to forget about Arabella. First came death, then ecstasy.

She lifted her glass of wine, twirling it to watch it glint in the moonlight. Was the earth shifting beneath her feet?

And even with all this wine, she still had those voices in her head, the commenters who’d invaded her own thoughts. Skank. Desperate. Underfed. Old. Nasty. Pathetic. No wonder Marc dumped her. YIKES she has hollow eyes now—why does she always look so SAD?

Murderer.

She’d once read about English ivy—a plant that aggressively took over forests, choking out the native life. It clung to the bark and branches, smothering light with its infestation, suffocating evergreens and flowers.

That was what those comments were—an invasive species in her thoughts. They reproduced until they became part of her own ecosystem and killed everything else. They’d even grown over the terrible words her mom had used to describe her: Disappointing. Not very bright, this one. Not like her sister. Had to pay thousands just so she could read by fourth grade.

And they’d grown over the lovely words Marc had used to describe her. You make people feel alive. You make me feel like the volume has been turned up on life…

She realized that tears were sliding down her cheeks.

Clutching the phone, she dove back into the vitriol.

Do you think she poisoned her out of jealousy? Because Arabella was clearly more successful in every way that matters?

She’s been falling apart. I think she finally snapped. That disgusting naked photo made that clear.

She definitely did it. She’s just that kind of jealous psycho. Her new friend Hannah should stay far, far away.

Hot anger cut through her drunken haze, and she started to type a response. They had no reason to think she killed Arabella, apart from a few photos together. They just loathed her so much that she had to be guilty. She stumbled back, mashing the keys.

Then she snapped a picture of the pond, dark and glittering under the moonlight.

Under